


Culture Shock

by coveredinfeels



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, Unrequited Lust, it's not paranoia if the south really is trolling you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredinfeels/pseuds/coveredinfeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has a new assistant whose job is to provide stress relief. Dorian has a minor problem with this. And a major problem with the fact that nobody else seems to think it's a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Culture Shock

**Author's Note:**

> kink meme prompt:  
>  _Cullen assigns himself a soldier whose only purpose is to be available to give Cullen a blowjob whenever he feels like one. It's not considered abusive or degrading, it's just one of the jobs a soldier can have and Cullen finds that orgasms help him with headaches, so, overall, it makes him a better commander._

It's not that Dorian didn't notice, but he couldn't precisely pinpoint when Cullen gained a second shadow. Oh, there's always somebody trying to report to Cullen or hand him things, but it's more of a rotation of faces that Dorian doesn't take notice of because they're generally not nearly as pretty as the commander himself is. (Yes, yes, he knows. But he's just _looking_ ).

This one just follows Cullen around, constantly. Occasionally he fetches tea. The mystery is semi-solved when one day, over chess, Cullen winces and says "My shoulders, please."

The man moves wordlessly, pressing fingers into Cullen's skin in what looks like a well-practiced manner. "You're supposed to ask before it gets this bad, Commander." he says, in a manner that reminds Dorian of some of the brusquer healers ( _Don't they teach you to hold still in Tevinter?_ was one he'd gotten recently).

"So this is--" Dorian says, waving his hand vaguely to indicate both the man and the situation.

"Everett, ser. Formerly field medic, now assigned to see to the Commander's care and relief."

_Relief?_ Oh, so many possible jokes he could make, but before he can, Cullen says, "He does wonders for my headaches. Leliana's been saying told-you-so all week."

And since lyrium withdrawal is not really a laughing matter, Dorian shelves the jokes and makes his move instead.

(Cullen makes the most amazing noises when he's getting a shoulder massage. Dorian loses the game very very badly).

* * *

It's a few days later that he hears the man's name again, from some group of soldiers at the tavern. Followed by a peculiar and worrying exchange:

"The commander's keeping him busy, eh? Poor fellow's knees will wear out at this rate."  
"He don't like it, he can quit. I hear there's a queue for _that_ job."  
"Don't have to tell me, my friend. I am _in_ that queue."

Surely they don't mean--? Dorian frowns. Cullen has done nothing at all to deserve such slander, as far as he knows (other than, perhaps, to play chess with Dorian).

Perhaps he should keep an ear out for anything further. Although, really, what is their spymaster _for_ if she's not going to keep a handle on this sort of thing when it's going on under her very nose?

* * *

As Dorian crosses out of the library, he notices the light's still on in Cullen's office, and figures he might as well pop by to say hello on his way to bed. Cullen still works too hard.

The door is slightly ajar-- Cullen is behind his desk, one hand raised with a handful of paper in it, as expected. But just as he lifts his hand to push it fully open, Cullen says, as calmly as if he's asking for a cup of tea, "Suck me off, would you? I can't concentrate on these reports."

"Yes, ser." comes the reply, as Dorian freezes, hand half-way to the door, and then he sees Everett, crossing behind the desk and dropping to his knees. Behind the desk, Dorian can't actually see what's going on, but there's the sound of hastily undone belts and buckles, and then Cullen closes his eyes and tilts his head back with a sigh.

Is Cullen really so reckless? If Dorian just nearly walked in on this, anybody could.

\--wait, that equally means that anybody could be about to walk up behind him and see Dorian staring at the way Cullen bites his lip, eyes still closed, hands disappearing behind the desk to-- what, to do _what_?

Part of Dorian really wants to know. The rest of him panics, and makes a run for it before Cullen or anybody else realises he's there.

* * *

Leliana listens very carefully to Dorian's concerns, and then giggles. "Really, Dorian. Everett's just doing his job."

"So, you don't see a problem with this situation? This is _usual_?"

"I don't know how it is in Tevinter, but it's quite usual around here." Leliana says calmly. "Cullen's position is a stressful one, and assigning someone like Everett to him keeps him less stressed, and more efficient. I promise you, I did a thorough background check on _all_ applicants."

That makes Dorian pause. " _Applicants_. So, what, you put out a job posting? Are you _serious_?" He's waiting for her to admit she's just fucking with him.

"You wouldn't have been eligible to apply. I limited it to men who were already under Cullen's command, and for obvious reasons, not Templars." Leliana holds out her hand and a giant, baleful looking raven lands on her arm. "Don't pester Cullen about the matter, Dorian. It took me weeks to convince him this was a suitable use of resources."

"A suitable--" Dorian glares. The raven glares back. Leliana just looks amused. "If I find out this is all some elaborate joke, there _will_ be a reckoning."

* * *

Cullen puts the pawn down, and leans back in his chair.

"Suck me off, would you? I can't concentrate on our game."

Dorian wakes with a gasp.

* * *

The Inquisitor is no help. She just laughs, a lot less subtly than Leliana, and then pats his hand. "You are such a _delicate flower_. It's all right, Dorian, I'll protect you from the barbaric southern customs."

He doesn't bother asking anybody else. He thinks the Inquisitor must have told them all, though, because Varric leaves several suspiciously on-theme books in his quarters and Bull offers to work him into something he refers to as "the Chargers' rota". Dorian sets the books on fire and tells Bull to fuck off.

* * *

"Does it really bother you?" Cullen asks, over their next game of chess. "Everett, I mean."

The man in question is standing _right there_. Dorian feels his cheeks heat. "Not _bother_ precisely. It was just unexpected. A little bit of culture shock, one might say."

Cullen nods, slowly. "But you don't mind? I didn't intend to make you feel uncomfortable."

Only in the trousers. "Don't worry." Dorian tells him, Leliana's warning ringing in the back of his mind. "If he helps, then, you go right ahead."

Cullen sighs. "That's a relief. To be honest, I've been holding back a little when you're around. Everett, would you?" He pushes his chair back from the board, making room for-- sweet _Maker_.

"Yes ser." Everett says.

Dorian loses _that_ game very very badly, too.


End file.
